


Ambarino Swimming

by barbarosabee



Series: Fluffy oneshots [6]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Almost Drowning, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sharing Body Heat, but obv not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 04:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20632751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbarosabee/pseuds/barbarosabee
Summary: Arthur just wanted to get a nice picture of Charles out on the ice of Barrows Lagoon.





	Ambarino Swimming

**Author's Note:**

> I finally made good on my threat to write actual charthur content rather than just implying it

The day could almost be called warm. Almost. It was the tail end of winter and there’d been a few days of clear skies and bright sun. The weather held through the whole trip, made it easy to track the game. Snow around the edge of the lake was mostly slush and they had to hitch the horses a bit up the hill.

They were on their way back to camp, an elk butchered into quarters stowed mostly on their rented pack mule. The meat had frozen just about solid; wouldn’t have to worry about it spoiling, could take their time getting home.

Arthur skidded his way out to the middle of the pond to get a shot of the mountains. Charles watched from the shore, trying and failing to suppress a smile. Arthur wouldn’t be able to see it, all the way out there. Probably. Arthur fiddled with his little camera for a few minutes, seemed satisfied, and stumbled back to Charles.

“You gotta check out the view.”

“Can see it just fine from here.”

“It’s different out on the ice.” Arthur bumped his shoulder into Charles as he stuffed the camera back into his satchel. “When you think we’ll get a chance to come back?”

Arthur had been doing that a lot during this trip, bumping into Charles, throwing unrestrained smiles at him when he thought Charles wouldn’t catch it. Charles had been doing the same thing right back. Both pretended not to notice the other doing it.

Charles unfolded his arms and started picking his way across the sludgy shore. “Fine. But don’t take my picture. Can’t have people thinking we had  _ fun _ .”

“Sure. Course not.”

Arthur held the camera up, watched Charles through the viewfinder until he was in the perfect spot in the frame.

“Ain’t it nice?” Arthur called without looking up from the camera.

“I thought I said no pictures!” Charles called, but a smile split his face. The shutter click carried through the still air. Charles thought he could feel it, almost.

There was another click and Charles  _ did _ feel it this time, from his feet well through his knees, and he had maybe a whole second to realise it wasn’t the camera, couldn’t be, because it was the ice cracking beneath him and the world became dark and cold and wet around him. 

“Charles!”

Arthur felt the crack before he heard it. Charles had disappeared beneath the ice before his name even left Arthur’s mouth.

Arthur tossed the camera, slipped out of his coat and sprinted b _ e _ st he could to the hole where Charles used to be. Bits of ice bobbed over the dark waters. The blue-black ice was too thick to see through but Arthur thought he saw a vague shape not too far down.

Hesitated when he felt more ice shift beneath his feet. Hadn’t thought that maybe, he’d go through as well, now that the ice was weak.

Arthur shifted his weight without lifting his feet. The ice split and he jerked back, but the sudden movement just caused more fissures to strike out from the hole.

The ground split beneath him. Arthur only just managed to grab onto a large broken chunk to keep himself from falling all the way in. The cold was enough of a shock to steal his breath as he tried to scramble onto more solid ground.

Was nearly all the way out when something grabbed his foot.

\- 0 - 0 - 0 -

Charles had had his share of brushes with death. Had come close enough that he could convince himself not to fear it, just another inevitable natural process. But through the shock of the cold anger sparked deep within. He was _not_ going to die to some dumb accident out in the wilderness.

Even though it hadn’t held his weight, hardly any light passed through the ice, was still too thick for him to break it. His best hope would be to find where he had fallen through. But he’d gotten turned around and everything was  _ dark _ .

Charles paused. Counted his heartbeats. His lungs weren’t yet screaming at him to breathe so he released a few bubbles, studied their path. Good—he was oriented correctly, at least. The ice was above him. Charles put a hand over his head and kicked slowly until his fingers brushed the ice.

He was starting to go numb. Took most of his strength to keep from being bogged down by his sodden clothes. Wouldn’t have much time left to make a decision—hope Arthur got him out, or try to find where he had fallen in? 

Charles kept one hand on the ice over him as he made a slow circle. Hopefully there would be a spot of light where he had fallen in—and really, how far could he have drifted from the hole in the still waters of a frozen pond—and it wouldn’t be too far. A burn started between his ribs but Charles squashed the panic down as far as he could.

The ice broke between his fingers and a second later light sliced through an opening less than two feet from him. Legs appeared soon after and Charles used the last of his strength to kick towards them. Wrapped his hand around an ankle just as spots obscured his vision and he was sure the instinct to breathe would overtake him, make him suck in a lungful of frigid water.

Arthur knew it had to be Charles grabbing his leg, still didn’t keep him from screaming. Ignored the instinct to kick out, just bent in half to get his hands around the arm and haul them both from the water.

Weren’t an easy task. Charles had gone under with all his winter gear on, probably added another thirty pounds once it was soaked. Chunks of ice drifted between them as well; Arthur kicked them away as best he could.

Finally after what felt like a goddamn  _ decade _ he had them both above the ice, shivering and panting. Wanted nothing more than to rest, but could feel the ice getting more unsteady. Got his arms under Charles and dragged him to shore. Collapsed in the slush with Charles half on him.

Not a stitch of dry clothes between the two of them. Arthur reluctantly wriggled out from beneath Charles to retrieve his coat from a ways down the shore. When he got back to Charles he had to swallow an automatic swear. Man was pale as Arthur had ever seen him, shuddering violently. Didn’t seem to have the strength to even wrap his arms around himself.

Arthur sat him up, tried to get as many soaked layers off as he could. Luckily the air was above freezing so neither of them was a solid block of ice yet, but Charles’ winter gear was  _ serious _ and Arthur struggled to remove it.

Arthur got him down to a shirt and pants, manipulated Charles’ shivering limbs into his own coat. Warmest one he owned, a big sheepskin-lined shotgun coat he’d had made custom at the trapper’s. Arms were a bit tight on Charles but  _ something _ dry was better than trying to get off the mountain soaking wet.

Charles leaned into Arthur’s chest, boneless, eyes closed. Mumbled something that sounded like “thank you.” Arthur rubbed up and down his arms, trying to get  _ any _ kinda warmth back into him.

“I gotta go get the horses, you gonna be alright here for a minute?”

Charles tried to speak around his chattering teeth. Couldn’t. Just nodded. Arthur cleared the snow away behind him before leaning Charles onto the ground.

“This’ll just take a second.” Gave Charles a reassuring squeeze to the shoulder; Charles only nodded again.

Arthur scrambled up the hill. Couldn’t call for the horses since they’d had to tie them up, and he knew the mule probably wouldn’t try to follow. Stubborn thing didn’t appreciate the snow and had put up a fuss the whole time.

Calliope wickered when she saw him. Taima woke with a snort. The mule glared. Arthur barely refrained from cutting the leads in his impatience.

Struggled to undo the knots with shaking hands. Started to feel the cold seeped into his boots, his pants, his shirt where Charles had leaned against him. He’d be shivering soon if they didn’t get moving somewhere warmer.

Arthur stumbled back down the hill. The mule yanked on his lead and Arthur had to grab at it with both hands.

A weak whistle came from behind Arthur. Taima trotted past him and Calliope followed, but not before trying to tug Arthur after her by his sleeve. Arthur pushed her nose to get her going and went back to dragging the mule through the snow.

Out of breath by the time he got to Charles. Taima and Calliope both nosed at him but he’d curled in on himself. 

“Gonna skin this damn mule if he keeps this shit up,” Arthur grunted out as he tied the lead to Taima’s saddle.

Charles turned half-open eyes to Arthur with a weak nod. Arthur shoved between Calliope and Taima to hoist Charles up. Charles tried to help but the shaking in his limbs made him too unsteady to do much, weak grip on Arthur’s shoulders. Arthur kept a hand on him as he swung into the saddle, had to pull Charles’ arms around his waist. 

Arthur nudged Calliope into a fast trot. “We gotta get out of the mountains. Can’t get you warm if we’re camped in the snow.”

Charles couldn’t respond around the chattering of his teeth, clung harder to Arthur and buried his face between Arthur’s shoulders. More than a bit concerned he didn’t seem to be able to feel his toes, or much below the knees, or the tips of his fingers. Charles chased his sluggish thoughts but his mouth couldn’t catch up with him, decided to save his energy. Wanted to close his eyes but he knew if he did he’d just fall off Calliope and make the whole thing worse.

Not focused on anything past the cold gripping his bones, Charles didn’t notice them approach the ramshackle cabin.

Arthur had found the cabin the first time he came up by Cattail Pond. Had a hell of a time getting the damn thing open, but it was well worth it—practically untouched on the inside, nice bed, new stove, cast iron and copper cookware. Someone had put a lotta money into it, but it was clearly abandoned. 

Arthur didn’t care to solve the mystery of its ownership just now. Had to get Charles under some blankets and start a fire. Nearly dropped him more than once from the violence of his shaking, left him on a rickety chair just inside the door. Arthur hastily tied the mule to a nearby tree and dumped a pile of oatcakes in front of him. Left Calliope and Taima to their own devices, trusted they wouldn’t go far with all the good grazing around the cabin.

“Alright, let’s get you warmed up,” Arthur said as he got one of Charles’ arms around his shoulder and dragged him to the bed.

“Clothes. Off,” Charles managed, just barely. “T-t-too wet.”

“I should get the fire going.”

Charles looked up at him, and Arthur was sure that if he weren’t shuddering like a sapling in a summer storm, it would’ve been a downright venomous glare.

“Arthur.”

The unspoken  _ please _ hung between them.

Charles did his best to help. About as coordinated as a newborn calf, though, so Arthur did most of the work. The shotgun coat was too damp on the inside, now, to be of any use and Arthur tossed it onto the pile of sodden clothes. Charles got one of the quilts around his shoulders as Arthur worked on the boots practically glued to Charles’ feet. Charles tried to rub some warmth back into his hands but it did as much good as rubbing two stones together.

Arthur threw the wet boots towards the door. The thump as they landed covered the pounding of his heart he was sure Charles could hear. Arthur paused, nothing left of Charles’ to remove but his pants.

“I’ll get the fire going.” Arthur tugged the blanket tighter around Charles’ shoulders.

Arthur’d brought in a cord of wood the last time he’d stayed here and he piled almost all the logs into the hearth. Kindling caught fast and soon the blaze was too warm for him to be directly in front of. Dragged the bed closer, left just enough space to walk between it and the fire. Arthur hurried outside to gather more wood, still not looking at Charles. Could hear him shivering, though. 

Calliope nudged at his side as Arthur bundled wood from the pile on the porch. Arthur took a moment to dig a peppermint from his pocket and remove her bridle. Didn’t have time to take all the tack off, but he could at least make it easier for her to graze. Taima was at the other end of the little meadow, head buried in the grass. The mule was asleep under his tree.

“Sorry, girl,” and Arthur sent her off. Struggled under the pile of wood he’d made.

Arthur stacked the wood next to the hearth, shifted some of the burning logs around with a poker to make the fire flare up again. Turned back to Charles. The shaking wasn’t as bad as when they’d first flopped off the ice, but the color hadn’t come back to Charles’ face and his teeth rattled like dice in a cup.

“Arthur.”

“Your pants are still wet.” Arthur glanced around the cabin as if someone else would appear to do this task for him. “Right. Let’s uh, get those off?”

Charles nodded shakily. Tried to say something else but his teeth clicked together, sounded painful. Breathed out, sharp and frustrated. Gave Arthur a look because they both knew what needed to happen. Charles lowered the blanket as if that would make things any easier for Arthur. Managed to undo the buttons of his fly but didn’t have the strength to shimmy from the wet fabric.

“I’ll just—you hold onto the frame.” Arthur could feel the blush heating his neck, his chest, his face deep across his cheeks as he grabbed the hem of Charles’ pants, kept a hand on the back of his calf to hold him steady. 

The wet jeans were stubborn. Arthur tried to be gentle, and when that didn’t work he yanked. Charles barely had enough grip on the bed frame to keep from toppling off. Scrambled to cover himself, more because of how cold the air was on his wet skin and less out of any sense of modesty.

Arthur coughed, apologized, busied himself setting Charles’ clothes near the fire to dry. Kept his eyes down and away from where he knew Charles was naked as a jaybird under a thin blanket.

“I should. Uh. You hungry? I got beans. Or I could cut off a chunk’a that elk—”

“ _ Arthur _ ,” Charles ground out, teeth clenched to keep from clacking into each other.

Arthur dropped his hand from the back of his neck. “You’re still too cold, ain’t ya?”

“Blanket’s th-thin. Need—” Charles squeezed his eyes shut as a violent shudder tore through him. Breath ragged once it passed. “Need you. Body heat. H-helps.”

Arthur was halfway under the blanket—eyes somewhere on the ceiling—when Charles poked him right in the stomach.

“Shirt. Off.”

Arthur’s eyes snapped to Charles, sure the other man was joking. “What.”

“Works better, skin to skin.”

Arthur hesitated again. Reached for the hem of his shirt slow. Thing was damp anyways. 

Jerked it free of his pants and quickly unbuttoned it before he could think too hard about the situation.

“Pants.”

Stopped with his hands on the last three buttons. “Really?”

Charles closed his eyes through another violent shudder. “C-can’t warm up with wet c-c-clothes.”

Arthur sighed, rough, ran a hand over his face. Charles grabbed his other hand, didn’t speak, just shot him one of those  _ looks _ of his, the ones that said things more plainly than could ever be said aloud.

_ We both wanted this _ .

Arthur squeezed his hand back and stripped so fast he thought smoke might rise from his skin. Wriggled under the blanket and Charles immediately pressed into his back. Arthur couldn’t help the gasp—Charles was fuckin’  _ cold _ . His whole-body tremble rattled through Arthur. Charles locked his arms around Arthur’s chest like a vice.

“ _ Jesus _ , Charles.”

Charles didn’t answer, just buried his face in Arthur’s neck. Arthur put his arms on top of Charles’, desperate the bring the man whatever extra warmth he could.

  
  


They didn’t speak for long, long time. Arthur thought Charles had fallen asleep, done shivering. It startled him when Charles’ breath ghosted across Arthur’s neck as he spoke.

“It’s your fault anyways.”

“Is it now?”

“Told me the view was better from the ice.”

“Oh.”

Charles turned, just enough to look Arthur in the eye. “I wasn’t being serious, Arthur, it could’ve happened to you. Just bad luck.”

“Still—”

Charles hushed him with a quick peck to the cheek. “If you’re so worried about, just do your best to warm me up.”

**Author's Note:**

> howdy I am incapable of writing shippy fic. It took me almost a month to finish this. Think I gotta go back to just general spoopy adventuring.
> 
> I didn't love this but that's probably just cuz I was staring at it for so long? anyways hope y'all enjoyed.


End file.
